


First Day 9:42 Dragon

by pastellarts (jeangrey)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: And Men Who Love Them, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Strong Female Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22231534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeangrey/pseuds/pastellarts
Summary: The people of the Inquisition have settled in Skyhold and take a break from their duties to celebrate the First Day at the request of their Inquisitor.
Relationships: Cassandra Pentaghast/Male Trevelyan, Male Inquisitor/Cassandra Pentaghast, Male Mage Inquisitor/Cassandra Pentaghast
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	First Day 9:42 Dragon

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Dragon Age fanfic and the second fanfic I have written.  
> Inspired by the holidays, I wrote this fluffy one-shot about Cassandra x Inquisitor, my favorite dragon age couple. One of my headcanons is that they kissed before meeting at the hidden grove for the romance cutscene and that the Inquisitor kept flirting with her.

The Inquisitor was ecstatic about being back in Skyhold in time for the First Day. Not only because it meant he would enjoy some indoor warmth after wrapping up the mission in the Storm Coast, but also because it would be the first time in 22 years he would celebrate this holiday without any restrictions. In the past, he had been able to enjoy the day with his fellow mages from the Circle in Ostwick. Good wine and ale from Antiva, local specialties from the Free Marches, and the Templars engaging themselves in their own festivities allowed the mages to indulge themselves in a day of relative freedom and unsupervised joy.

But here in Skyhold, there were no templars overlooking at their alcohol consumption, no fear of accidents from drunken spells, no brawls to break up, no bloody fights.

Well, Sera and the Iron Bull would organize a drinking contest so bloody fights could break out as well.

But those fights – or any fights - will not result in him getting locked up in his chambers early.

He put on a tunic of silk in royal blue and some leather pants that were traditional in Ostwick. For some silly reason he wanted to show up as a Trevelyan tonight and share childhood stories with his companions and other people.

His face broke into a wide smile as he entered the main hall. Dozens of lanterns were hanging from the roof, along with other flashy decorations from all over Thedas, including Ostwick. Food and drink occupied every table and people from the keep were mingling with each other, talking, laughing, toasting, dancing.

“Inquisitor! You look splendid my Lord! I take it you honour your family colours with these pants?”

“Josephine!”, he bowed slightly. “This exceeds my childhood imagination of any First Day parties!”

“Really? I never took you for a First Day enthusiast my Lord. But I am glad you like it. I tried to put together insignia and decoration ideas from all over Thedas, even Tevinter. This is what the Inquisition represents after all.”

“Indeed,” Max added, looking over the swarmed crowd. “I’m glad we have no official guests tonight.” He was beyond relief that Josephine had agreed not to turn it into a big event with nobles and special unknown dignitaries. He desired this celebration to be more of a family affair for the people of Skyhold. Something to spread feelings of hope and gratitude, a sense of belonging and the means to fight the nightmares that still tortured the survivors of Haven.

He bid farewell to his Ambassador and mingled a bit with the crowd and some of his companions. His main daily goal was to drink, dance and sing with no care. Maryden and a few more people were doing a great job so far to keep plenty of partygoers on their toes.

About an hour later Max was enjoying the retelling of one of Dorian’s stories about a failed past First Day celebration.

“I will go fetch my lute!” Max almost yelled to Dorian as the necromancer mage filled his glass with more wine. “Bet Maryden knows a tune or two from the Free Marches!”

“Here, here! Show them how it’s done!” Varric raised his mug as an elated Max walked through the crowd to his quarters.

His stride brought him past the steps near the throne where he paused and turned to take a look at the party.

And there was _her_.

A simple red tunic and her usual leather pants. Her sword and armor missing. A drink in her hand. She was biting at a roast chicken leg while listening to Leliana, who had also skipped her usual attire for a dress.

Her eyes found his and the world was no more.

All that was left of him was an open mouth, a pair of thirsty eyes taking in her curves, and a heart swelling with every breath he took.

Since the day that she’d described to him the ideal romance in the barracks, he’d wasted no time to start looking for poems, roses and candles. Even if she had asked him to go to the Deep Roads and find a lost treasure, he would have not hesitated.

Cassandra brushed her thumb quickly over the left side of her upper lip – _when did she finish her food?-_ took a sip from her drink and graced Max with one of those smiles that were rare for anyone but _him_. And those smiles were not so rare anymore.

Maker, he was a fool in love.

He started for her, ignoring Varric’s yell about _that damn lute_ and Dorian’s wolf whistle.

“Inquisitor, glad to see you are enjoying yourself, as is everyone,” Leliana offered him a cup of wine as he reached them. “This feast is just what we needed in Skyhold,” she tipped her own glass to him and took a sip.

“I hope you are also relaxing a bit Leliana”, Max raised his own cup. “Cassandra,” he said, awe and a bit of desire apparent in his tone.

“It’s good to see people celebrating. The sight of the everyone in a merry mood warms the heart,” Cassandra chimed in with a smile.

“Indeed.”

They chatted among themselves and with other people that approached them with well wishes for the new year.

“Off to find Josie and turn this into a _real party_ ,” Leliana announced and became one with the crowd.

Max stared after her in amusement. “I hope it’s not my undergarments that will end up pinned on any board in Skyhold if our Spymaster has her way with _real parties_ ,” he quipped.

Cassandra had taken a sip of her wine and sputtered at his words. Max turned in time to see her spewing some on the coat of the person standing right in front of her and couldn’t stop his guffaw if he tried. Cassandra herself burst into a mix of coughing and laughter and their nearby guests turned to them.

There was no time to spare. Flashing a wild grin Max tipped his own cup and laid a hand on Cassandra’s elbow, guiding her with haste to the doors leading to the garden.

Fresh air filled their lungs as soon as they made their way outside. They sat on a bench, backs on the wall, letting the chilly air and stillness calm their breathing and the lingering redness on their faces from their uncontrollable laughter earlier.

“I was not aware you knew the story about Leliana, Josie and the pinned undergarments.”

“I still don’t know the whole story,” Max pointed out. “And I am not sure I want to know all the details so let’s leave it at that.”

Cassandra closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall. Her fingers played softly with the bracelet she was wearing on one of her wrists.

Max noticed some engraved shapes on it. “Is this from Nevarra?”

“I have no idea,” Cassandra turned her wrist and observed the design. “It has dragons on it so perhaps.”

“May I?” Max raised her wrist closer to his eyes, observing the patterns.

“A gift from Anthony on our last Satinalia together,” she blurted.

“Beautiful and fitting for a Nevarran princess,” Max smiled at her.

“Clearly you have forgotten how much of a princess I actually am, Max,” Cassandra blushed and turned away, looking at the garden.

His eyes took in her mouth, closer to him this time but still not close enough. She had worn perfume tonight and somehow her hair seemed carefully styled.

_So beautiful…_

Heart in his throat, Max repositioned himself so that their thighs touched.

“I have not. But,” he wet his lips. ”What do you say if we are just Cassandra and Max for a moment?”

* * *

She had tried to avoid him, she really had. Ever since their conversation in the barracks, they had seen so little of each other. He’d left for the Storm Coast without her, giving her time and space to think and clear her head. He’d claimed he cared for her. His flirting had been insistent yet respectful. His stares were full of desire but stripped of any salacious traits.

No matter what she responded with to his advances, about their duties, their responsibilities, their roles, him being the Inquisitor, the war against Corypheus, he had not faltered a bit. On the contrary, he appeared even more determined to show that his feelings for her were sincere and serious.

And if she were honest with herself, she wanted him madly. He was not someone who just wanted to boast about getting his way with the Hero of Orlais, no. He was the Herald of Andraste, _her_ Herald, the man who had committed himself fully to their cause, leading them with vigor and faith, fighting bravely with a righteousness that shone in a world of chaos and hate.

He was a great friend, giving her space to grieve for Justinia and Galyan, standing by her side as she grieved for the tragic fate of Daniel, supporting her and her idealistic dreams of rebuilding the Seekers, even admitting to being guided by her.

_“I don’t think you are blind.”_

He was also Max, a handsome mage from Ostwick who brightened her days with his jokes, his smiles, his kindness, his small touches, his attention, his unravelling desire to discuss endlessly anything with her.

Every time she had confronted him about his attention, he had laid himself open to her, dispersing her fears about whether he truly cared or not, making her hope that he could give her what she yearned for.

She’d chosen this tunic for him. She’d paid attention to her braid and hair, trimmed some loose edges. She’d even bought a perfume that she’d imagined he would like. When she’d met Leliana at the stairs to the hall, her friend had whistled and given her an appreciative once over.

_“Someone has cleaned up rather nice today. A certain mage in mind?”_

_“Nobody in mind.”_

_“My mistake then…”_

The falter in his step when he’d located her in the crowd had broken any remaining reservations she had for him. A man who had just suggested to be simply Cassandra and Max for a moment. Two people who…

She had no time to think. Max cradled her wrist and started to caress her palm with his thumb. Her eyes followed its movement, as it was scattering any leftover doubts upon all the winds. Using his other hand, Max traced her fingers with his own. The stroke was gentle yet so sensuous, fueling her veins with a surge that ran through her veins and spine and consumed her body and soul.

She burned for him.

Lifting her head, she held his gaze for a moment before he leaned and kissed her.

_His lips on mine speak words not voiced, a prayer_

Blessed Andraste, his lips were warmer than fire. He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against her temple.

“Cass…I… You’re so beautiful,” he let out a shaky breath and stared into her eyes.

Cassandra let her fingers trace his jawline, his cheek and ghost over his lips. She met his hazy stare, as his hands touched her lower back through the tunic material and urged her closer to him.

She fisted his tunic and closed the distance, kissing him in the brashness of impulse and desire. He moaned and threaded his fingers thought her hair, urging her to open her mouth more.

They broke off to breathe and the door to the hall suddenly burst open, revealing a very drunk Dorian followed by Varric and an even more drunk Sera.

“Maaaaaax my friend… And Cassandraaaaa..! Hiiii Seeker… Maxwell Trevelyan, you promised me a Tevinter ballad with your lute, go fetch it, I will siiiing aloooong…”

Cassandra let Dorian and Sera drag Max away as Varric tailed them. If the dwarf had noticed her swollen lips after her kiss with Max, he didn’t show it.

When she was alone, she brought her fingers to her lips and sighed, reliving the tantalizing memory of his mouth moving against hers. She was in love with Max and there was nothing she could do anymore to pretend it was a simple infatuation.

Perhaps she had a chance to get her ideal romance after all.

* * *

Thank you all for taking the time to read my story!

I want to thank the awesome [whatsherface](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatsherface/pseuds/whatsherface) for beta reading it as well as my beloved friend [Ludi-Ling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ludi_Ling/pseuds/Ludi_Ling) who has inspired me to write, never says no when I ask for help and corrects my grammar, spelling and American/British English misses.

Go check their work, what are your waiting for?


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